Rule 34
by starlight.moon.princess
Summary: There are a lot of odd things that Sherlock has retained in his mind palace. The rules of the internet are just some of them. John is informed of this fact when Sherlock throws another one of his tantrums over Rule 34.


**Inspired by the following kink meme prompt:** _John is alerted to the fact that the contents of his blog have become fodder for rule 34. Tragically, the contents of Sherlock's blog have not become fodder for rule 34. If he wants anyone to write Perique Ash/Criollo Ash porn, he'll have to do it himself._

* * *

"Sometimes, Sherlock, I'm really glad that I have no idea what goes on in your mind," John muttered as he clicked through the website that his flatmate had practically forced him to see.

Sherlock sniffed. "If you knew what was going on inside my brain, you would never wish to have yours back, I can assure you of that. You haven't answered my question, however – can you believe such a travesty? That they could use your little _blog_ for this and not The Science of Deduction…"

John looked at him blankly. "You're trying to tell me that _that's_ what you're outraged about? Not this – this – whatever it is?"

"Honestly John, this was just expected. Have you never heard of rule 34?"

The blond sighed. He had no doubt that his question was going to make Sherlock sound even more disdainful that he already did, but he had never exactly been good at keeping his curiosity reigned. "Rule 34 of what?"

"Of the Internet, of course," Sherlock replied, sounding just as John had suspected – extremely superior. "To quote from some online dictionary – I deleted its name, before you ask – 'There is porn of it, there are no exceptions.' Or, that pornography or sexually explicit material exists for any conceivable subject in the world."

"Why have you not deleted that?" The question, asked by an astonished John, was the only reply he got. By his disgruntled expression, it wasn't the reply Sherlock had expected.

"Case," was his simple reply. "That still doesn't change the facts – people have actually decided to write – well, _explicit_ material based off of the things you write in your blog, but there's absolutely _nothing_ based on mine! Can you imagine such a thing?"

"Sherlock, I would have thought that you'd be upset about the fact that there are people out there using _us_ as fodder for their fantasies! Instead you're worried about the fact that there aren't any who are using your blog as material?"

"Please, John, as if that's any different that real life. Haven't you been paying any attention? There are several large bets among the yarders about the possibility of us being romantically involved and the intimate details of any such romantic or sexual life. The only difference with this that we don't know these people – and even that I'm doubtful of. I haven't had the opportunity to deduce all the yarders recently, but I wouldn't be surprised if several of them were writing this – fanfiction, I believe it's called. Personally, I find it all uninteresting drivel, but that might just be me…"

"I…do not even know what to say to that, Sherlock."

"You could answer my question, John. It's been some time since I first asked, and it's rude to keep a person waiting."

John quirked a smile at that. To hear _Sherlock_ call _him_ rude…well, if that wasn't the definition of irony, he didn't know what was. But for the moment, he had other worries.

"Sherlock, if you're interested in explicit material about things like perique ash and criollo ash and whatever the other 241 types of tobacco ashes are called, I'm afraid you'll have to create it yourself. I doubt either Mycroft or Moriarty have the free time, and they're just about the only other two people I can think of who would be interested in something like that."

Sherlock stared at John, before walking over to the sofa and dropping onto it. He curled up in a ball facing away from John, and doctor was almost certain that the detective was sulking.

Soon, he would have to soothe Sherlock in order to make sure he didn't shoot at the apartment again, but right now, he had other things on his mind. Normally, he didn't understand Sherlock's fascination with experiments, but his comments about some of the yarders writing stories about them – well, it had sparked his own imagination in a way only Sherlock had managed to do so before.

As Sherlock would say: This was definitely _not_ going to be boring.

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**I hope you guys liked it! As always, please don't forget to drop a review on your way out :)**


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